


Playing Dress-Up

by babybrotherdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dress Up, Fluff, Gen, Young Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: Dean's always thought his momma was the most beautiful person in the whole entire world, and he kinda wants to look pretty like she does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've just. Got a lot of feelings about Mary and baby Dean.

Dean is always very careful to do what his momma tells him. He’s not s'posed to touch the stove ‘cause it’s hot and he might get hurt. He doesn’t go outside after dark unless he’s with one of his parents, 'cause otherwise, it’s not safe. He only gets in trouble sometimes, and it’s usually 'cause he spoils his dinner by eating too many snacks, and it doesn’t last long enough to be all that bad.

Dean’s never been told whether or not he can explore his momma’s closet, but he still catches himself checking over his shoulder as he sneaks into her room. No such thing as being too careful, he knows.

He’s always loved the way his momma looks. She’s the most beautiful person he’s ever met, and even though he hasn’t met a lot of people, he’s pretty sure she’s the most beautiful person in the whole world, too. Her hair’s real soft, and she’s warm, and she even smells nice. Lots nicer than Dean’s dad, who smells kinda like cars, and who always laughs when Dean tells him so.

But he loves- he loves how his momma looks. The pretty clothes and jewellery she wears, especially, and Dean knows- he knows, 'cause he’s smart, it’ll all be in her closet, which is why he’s ended up here at all.

He kinda wants to be pretty, too.

He needs to put all of his little body weight into pushing the door open, its mirrored side reflecting the rest of his parents’ room as it slides out of the way. Dean takes a moment to catch his breath, then turns his attention to the contents of the closet, eyes going big and round with wonder.

His dad’s stuff is easy to ignore. It doesn’t take up very much room, and Dean’s got no interest in the fancy jackets and ties right now. Dominating the space, though, are his mother’s things, and that’s where his attention goes, lips parted in a little “o” of wonder as he reaches out automatically to brush his fingertips over soft fabric.

She’s got a million dresses, at least, he thinks, all of them different colours and cloths that feel different when he runs his hands over them. Spots and stripes and pretty flower patterns that look like they’ll smell pretty, if he sniffs them, but instead they mostly smell like clean laundry and his momma. Dean decides that’s even better and moves on with his investigation.

Lined up on the floor underneath the hanging clothes are shoes, neatly arranged in their pairs, and Dean watches them in wonder as he drops down to sit, wanting a closer look. There aren’t as many shoes as there are dresses, but there are still more than he has any idea what to do with. Some with heels, and some that are soft to the touch, and some that are shiny-smooth. He doesn’t wanna make those ones all smudged up and dirty, just in case, so he ends up pulling a velvet-fuzz black pair into his lap, making little sounds of amazement as he inspects them up close.

His eyes return to the dresses a minute later and he bites his lip, suddenly unsure. They’re all too high up for him to reach by himself, and he doesn’t want to hurt momma’s clothes by pulling on them. Especially when they’re so pretty and soft.

Maybe he can’t dress like her completely, but at least he can maybe try on her shoes.

Dean stands up and sets the shoes up, real careful. The heels on them mean he’s gotta step up high just to get his socked feet inside, and he squeaks with surprise as he slips on the first smooth inner sole. He just barely clings to his sense of balance and holds his breath while he gets the other shoe on.

He’s left feeling like he’s balancing on his toes, arms thrown out wide while he wobbles in place, and that’s when his momma calls for him somewhere down the hall. “Dean, sweetie? Are you hungry?”

Dean’s eyes go wide, and he’s caught between a fear of getting caught and a desire for validation, so by the time his momma finds the open door to her bedroom and peeks inside, Dean’s just managed to turn to face the door, still barely managing to stay upright in her shoes, and he gets to watch the way her eyebrows raise in surprise. “Dean?”

Dean smiles at her, still wobbling in place, and shuffles one half-step towards the door. “Hi, Momma.”

All at once, her face goes soft and warm, and she crosses the space between them much easier than Dean’s able to right now. She scoops him up off his feet, inadvertently leaving the shoes on the floor and knocking one of them onto its side. “Shoe-shopping, baby?”

Dean’s not even upset that his shoes have been abandoned on the floor, just snuggling in close to his momma and closing his eyes while he seeks out her affection. “Wanna look like Momma,” he tells her, whisper-soft like it’s a secret. “'Cause Momma’s the prettiest ever.”

She laughs, then, hugging him tighter and rocking him back and forth a little bit. Dean giggles and wraps his arms around her neck, content to just be close. “You wanna dress up like me?” She peeks down at him and gives him a little wink like when she sneaks him an extra cookie after dinner. “I think we can have that arranged.”

Dean absolutely beams, and when she sets him down to get started, he picks up the shoes and hugs them tight to his chest. He’s decided that they’re his favourite.

-

“Keep your eyes closed, Dean. Just another minute.”

Dean does as he’s told, even though the tiny brush that his momma’s using makes him tickle and want to squirm in place. It doesn’t last very long, as promised, and then the feeling disappears, letting him slowly peek his eyes open to see his momma smiling at him, big and excited. “All done!”

They’ve been working for hours and hours now, he thinks. Forever, maybe. Trying on pretty clothes and pretty jewellery, and, after she’d suggested it, even his momma’s special makeup. Dean had told her, very solemnly, that she didn’t need anything to make her any prettier than she already was, and she’d just hugged him and said sometimes it’s just for fun. The finishing touch is his momma’s favourite sun hat, white with a pretty green ribbon tied around it that flops down over Dean’s eyes as they move.

“You ready to go see Dad?” his momma asks him, and Dean doesn’t even wait a second before nodding.

It’s a little tricky to get up, 'cause he insisted on wearing the shoes he’d picked out, and 'cause he’s wearing one of her dresses now, too, one of the pretty flower ones- even with the way she’s pinned it up for him, it’s much too big for someone his size- but she’s there to help him, steadying his steps as they make their way towards the kitchen.

Dean’s heard his dad moving around downstairs since he got home, and when they find him, he’s sitting at the table with the newspaper on the table in front of him and a drink in hand. He glances up and opens his mouth, but then his eyes land on Dean and he pauses, blinking several times.

Dean doesn’t waste any time in toddling right over to him, and ends up losing the shoes on the way over. He decides it’s okay, though, 'cause he can just pick them up later, and right now, it’s more important for him to hurry over to his dad and latch right onto his leg, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Daddy, m'pretty like Momma is!” he says, stretching up on his toes like it’ll be easier to get the message across.

His dad glances at his mom again, and there’s something quiet that passes between them, one of those grown-up things that Dean’s too little to read, but when he looks back down at Dean- he’s smiling, then, soft and a little tired, and he reaches down to pick Dean up right off his feet. Dean’s more than happy to settle in his dad’s lap, snuggling close even as he knocks his hat off by accident. That’s okay.

“Yeah,” his dad murmurs, one arm tight around his middle while his free hand pushes through Dean’s hair. “You really are, kid.”

Dean closes his eyes and smiles, snuggling close as his momma comes up to join them, one hand on Dean’s back while she starts to talk to his dad. Dean keeps the dress on for the rest of the evening, and his momma helps him take off the makeup when it’s time for bed, gentle as she rubs a little swab over his face.

He doesn’t think anyone could ever be as beautiful as she is, but it makes him all warm and happy to dress up like it, all the same. He likes feeling pretty.

**Author's Note:**

> *rolls around in fluff*
> 
> (also day 273 of my 365 thing.)


End file.
